Disclaimer: So obviously, I don't own GA. I simply think about the characters far too much. The title is courtesy of Gary Jules' beautiful piece, "Falling Awake"
There was still no heartbeat.
At least that's what Derek assumed he'd heard, his back pressed up against the featureless wall of the hospital's trauma wing, his ex-wife staring intently at him while he struggled to maintain his composure.
He assumed he'd heard because he'd seemingly lost his ability to hear, focus, or comprehend anything going on around him once he had been forced to leave the trauma room where they were still treating Meredith. The room where they were still trying to revive her body, which, according to the equipment it was reporting into, was a simple shell of the person she had been only hours before.
Oh screw composure. He was literally seconds away from a massive breakdown, and there was absolutely no one in the world that could stop it.
And so he found himself here, standing outside her room, Addison's hand on his forearm, trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. At least he'd been able to stand, he thought to himself. At least he'd been able to do that.
As Derek felt his world begin to violently come down, he was faintly aware of Addison slipping her arm around his waist and guiding him into the nearest on call room. He knew what she was doing, and he was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted to do was publicly breakdown, and for a split second he was filled with a deep gratitude that it was Addison who was with him in that moment. She knew him in ways no one else did; she understood when he was close to breaking, and what exactly that entailed.
So immediately upon entering the on call room, Derek found himself slumping on the cool tile floor, unable to keep from crying any longer, and listening to the quiet metallic click of Addison locking the rest of the world out from the pain he could no longer suppress.
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Her original plan hadn't included holding her ex-husband on the floor of an on call room while he cried into her stomach.
No, that was not at all what she'd had in mind when she had started out the day. But something had snapped inside Addison when she had seen Derek's face through the quick flash of the trauma room door opening and closing. Huddled in the hallway, she saw the brokenness in his eyes, and she had a sudden flashback to the way he'd looked the night he had found her with Mark.
Empty pain, was the best way she could describe it. As if the whole situation wasn't real. As if he could remove himself from it if he just tried hard enough. He was trying to let the hollowness intoxicate his senses.
But Addison knew this suffocating of his feelings was just as dangerous; she had, after all, witnessed him almost lifelessly existing alongside her as they attempted to repair their marriage, all the while struggling to breathe at night as he lay beside her in the dark.
So she'd made the decision once it was determined that Meredith's condition was declining that she would be the one to tell Derek. And then she had found herself here, her back pressed against the wooden door of the on call room, Derek's trembling form clinging to her, with the lock solidly in place above both of their heads.
A/N: So this is the first piece of fanfiction that I've written in a long time. I don't know if I should continue this, or leave it as a one-shot. I have a few ideas where I could take the story, but we'll see. I would love any comments/suggestions you have!!